Basically Complicated
by Duck Life
Summary: What happens when you're in love with your best friend, who happens to be engaged? Simai. Non-central Clace. Maia's POV. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

_It is truly a universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be_-

"Maia?" I slammed the book shut and slipped it back onto the shelf when I realized that Luke was behind me. He laughed softly and put a hand on my shoulder. "Your shift's over." I turned around and smiled at him. "And aren't you glad you're done with all the _work _you were doing?" he teased, eyeing the copy of Pride and Prejudice I'd placed back on the shelf.

"There were no customers," I defended myself, unclipping my nametag and dropping it in the basket on the desk near the front door. I worked at Garroway Books, a job that I loved. "I'll see you tomorrow!" I called to Luke as I slipped out the door onto the Brooklyn street, still wet from an earlier rainfall.

Luke, my boss and pack leader, is also my roommate and best friend, Clary Fairchild's, step-father. I've worked for him since high school, and I've lived with her for three years, ever since she finished art school. I never went to college, and though I told people it was because I could never afford tuition, that wasn't technically true. I really couldn't afford tuition, but the real reason was that I didn't see myself being any happier with a degree and a better job than I did as a high school graduate working at a bookstore. Besides, as a werewolf I'd most likely have trouble fitting in at a university.

When I arrived at my apartment, I heard voices behind the door and wondered if Clary had invited her boyfriend, Jace, over. Jace lived with his gay adoptive brother, Alec, in an apartment a few blocks away from here and visited frequently. I didn't care for him- he was always rude to Downworlders- but he was usually civil when Clary was in the vicinity.

However, upon opening the door, I realized that it wasn't Jace Clary was talking to, but Simon Lewis. Simon was a vampire I'd met when he was human, and a very close friend of mine. He was Clary's other best friend. "Hi!" I said brightly.

"Maia, you won't believe it!" gushed Clary, her red curls bouncing as she turned to me with sparkling eyes. Clary was an artist who made a considerable amount of money by showing her paintings at galleries. She was one of those people that knew what they wanted to be when they grew up from the age of four. "Simon is going to ask Isabelle to marry him!"

Isabelle, Simon's girlfriend of four years, was a Shadowhunter like Clary. I didn't know her very well, but the times that I had seen her, she seemed nice. "That's great!" I replied, hugging Simon. He was grinning and fingering a dark blue velvet box. "Can we see the ring?" I asked, indicating the jewelry box as I sunk into the couch beside Clary.

"Nope," he grinned. "I want everyone to see it for the first time on Izzy's finger." Clary groaned and rolled her eyes, clearly wishing she could see the ring. Clary was constantly on the lookout for engagement ring designs she would like, as she and Jace had already decided to get married but wouldn't make it official until Clary found what she called, "the perfect ring." I thought she was too picky, but Jace waited patiently with her at every jewelry store they went to. "I was wondering," said Simon, "if you would let me take you on a practice date tonight, to get the proposal just right." He was looking at Clary, embarrassed but very, very in love. Clary laughed.

"As geeky and fun as that sounds, I have plans with Jace tonight," sighed Clary.

"That's okay," he replied. "Maia?"

"I'd love to," I laughed. "I'm always up for a geeky fake date." He scowled. "Are you leaving now?" I asked.

"Sure, if that's okay," he said. "Do you want to change first?"

"Why should I change?" I asked. "If it's not a real date, I should be allowed to wear jeans and a T-shirt if I want to."

"I just thought you might want to get into character," he suggested. "You know, dress like Isabelle."

"Simon, I don't own a thing in my closet that Isabelle would be caught dead wearing. I'll just go as I am."

He smiled. "Okay. Let's go."

"So I'm supposed to be in official Izzy mode now?" I said.

"Official Izzy mode begins… now!" he joked.

Clary rolled her eyes and muttered, "Nerds," under her breath. I laughed and stepped out the door that Simon opened for me- well, for Isabelle. He closed it behind us and turned to me, clearly picturing Isabelle.

"Um," he said, raising his hands to put them in my hair. I shifted awkwardly, looking up at him. "You- you are so beautiful-" I giggled, and he frowned.

"Sorry!" I laughed.

"This is very awkward," he agreed.

"No, look," I said, stifling my giggles. "I'm there for you. You can pretend I'm Isabelle, and I'll pretend I'm her. 'A Day in the Life of Izzy Lightwood.' Just forget that I'm your girl friend and… pretend that I'm your _girlfriend_," I suggested. He smiled.

"Okay," he said. "Let me try again." He put his cold hands back in my hair.

"Wait," I said, reaching back to pull the hair band out of my hair and tugging apart my braid. It floated around my head in elaborate dark curls. He nodded his approval and wrapped my hair around his fingers.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world," he whispered, leaning in. Some of the awkwardness returned as he came closer to my face, and I had to struggle not to snicker as he air-kissed me. "Are you ready for dinner… Isabelle?"

"I most certainly am, my beloved Simon," I replied in a British accent.

"Cut it out," he mumbled, leading me down the stairs.

We ate at an expensive, fancy restaurant, a place I didn't recognize. I worried about paying at first, but Simon assured me (me me, not Isabelle me) that he would pay because I was doing him a favor, and he was choosing what I ate. He wanted me to order Isabelle's favorite food, as it was what she would most likely be ordering and he wanted to know it tasted alright. When the waiter came over to take our orders, Simon reminded him that he would be at the same table tomorrow with another girl.

"The same date with two different girls?" the waiter asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Please stay out of my personal life," responded Simon without explaining the real situation to the intrusive man, which made me giggle once again.

After dinner, we (Simon and Isabelle me) took a walk in Central Park. The moon had risen, and its light bounced playfully along the ripples in the ponds around us. Simon led me to a tall tree, and pointed to a carved heart in its bark with "SL + IL" in it. "Remember how this was the first place I told you I loved you, Isabelle?" he hinted.

"Of course I remember," I played along. I couldn't help but smile- it was so cheesy and romantic, so… _Simon_. Smiling, he knelt down in front of me and extended his hand towards me, holding the velvet box. Absurdly, I got butterflies in my stomach, imagining Isabelle ready to begin this magical journey with Simon. I almost felt like an intruder to their personal lives. Simon clicked the box open, and I looked down to see an empty jewelry box- he must have put the ring in his pocket. _So much for getting a sneak peek at the ring_, I thought.

"Isabelle Lightwood," he whispered, and I could tell that he'd rehearsed this for hours in front of his mirror, "I love you more than the sun that I cherish, more than my own life, and I wish I could spend the rest of eternity cherishing the sunlight with you. Will you marry me?" I felt goosebumps shiver up my arms.

"Yes, Simon," I replied, wondering if Isabelle would embellish it. I wasn't sure, I really didn't know her too well. He smiled and stood, miming slipping the ring onto my finger. Without any uncertainty, Simon leaned forward and kissed me on the mouth.

I froze up, wondering if he wanted me to act as though I was Isabelle kissing her new fiancé. I couldn't even imagine kissing him back, because in that moment I was Maia Roberts, not Isabelle Lightwood, and rather than kissing the man I was going to marry, I was standing there being kissed by my good friend who was proposing to his girlfriend tomorrow- _not _me.

He pulled away quickly, looking down. "Sorry," he said hastily.

"It's fine," I laughed shakily. "You were in the moment."

"And you really think she's going to say 'yes'?" he asked worriedly.

"After a date like that?" I said. "She'll probably say 'yes' before you ask her."

"So it was good?" he asked.

"It was perfect," I assured him. He grinned in relief.

"Good," he said. "Maia, thank-you so much, I know this was really uncomfortable, and you were such a good friend about it, and… I am sorry I kissed you."

"Don't apologize for that," I laughed, worried that I sounded a bit manic.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" asked Simon. I shook my head.

"You live really near here and my apartment is out of the way," I reminded him. "I can go by myself."

"Okay," he said. "Thanks again, Maia, you're so great."

"Thanks for dinner," I responded. "See you tomorrow?"

"Me and my fiancée," he said.

"Okay," I replied, still shaky. He left then, and I stood there, watching him walk away until I couldn't see him anymore. The butterflies were still there.

"Oh, crap."


	2. Chapter 2

While walking home, I dialed Clary's cell number on my phone. She answered on the first ring (ring to me, I-yaz's "Replay" to her). "Hey, Maia," she said.

"Are you home?" I asked, sounding more panicked than I'd intended. I was walking quickly, weaving through the streets and trying to stay under light posts and near people. I wasn't at all afraid of some mundane mugger/rapist pulling me into an alley- the idea of a human messing with a werewolf was ludicrous- but it would waste time, and I wanted to get home quickly.

"Yeah," she answered, sounding concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Is Jace there?" I ignored her question, perhaps because I didn't know the answer myself.

"Yeah," she replied.

"Tell him to go home," I said, trying and failing not to sound whiny. She didn't seem offended.

"Jace, get out!" I heard her say somewhere away from the mouthpiece of the phone. I heard a muffled scuffle, something murmured, a quick kiss, and the sound of the door slamming. (Jace always slammed our door, regardless of his mood. It ruined the doorframe horribly, but we could never get him to stop.) "What's up?" Clary said cheerily.

"Guy problems, apparently," I sighed, jogging across the street. She sounded confused.

"What? Did you run into somebody on your 'date' with Simon?"

"Actually…" I stalled, not really wanting to tell her what I thought I felt. "I think it kind of _is _Simon."

"OMJ," she exhaled.

"It's really annoying when you change OMG to use your current boyfriend's name," I snapped, trying desperately to lighten the mood.

"Joke's on you, because the 'J' doesn't stand for Jace. It's for Jacob from Twilight," she said.

"Ohmygod he is so hot," I gushed immediately. "He's, like, the best thing about being a werewolf. And those _abs_…"

"Stop trying to change the subject," she said tonelessly. "What's going on with you and Simon?"

"I sort of would rather talk about it f2f," I explained. I heard her sigh.

"It's hardly acceptable while we're texting, but why do you insist on peppering _actual _conversation with text talk?" she ranted, continuing her vendetta on texting acronyms. It had begun a few years ago when she and Jace had had a serious misunderstanding based on a confused abbreviation. (Jace had texted Clary, "**LYSM**," – meaning "Love You So Much – which Clary had interpreted as "Love Your Sister More." She'd freaked out and begun a huge fight with Jace before she even realized that she didn't have a sister and the text made no sense.)

"_Face to face_," I muttered.

"Bing or Garcia?" For us, ice cream is like a religion. I can't imagine it never being able to help us out of whatever specific type of bad mood we might be in. We eat it when we're having relationship problems, having family problems, watching a sad movie, or listening to that ridiculously tragic Christmas song about the shoes and the dying mother. Clary knows that I'm about the only person in the world who can distinguish totally clearly between Bing Cherry Vanilla and Cherry Garcia ice cream, and I've mapped out which occasions call for one or the other. This was definitely a Cherry Garcia situation. I told her, and I heard her over the phone standing up and walking over to the freezer, which we always keep stocked with my two favorite flavors and hers, Mint Chocolate Chip. I'd reached our apartment building by then, and I hurriedly jogged up the stairs to our apartment.

Clary was all ready with the pint of ice cream and spoons. "Hey," she greeted me, scooting over on the couch. I flopped down and shoved a huge clump of frozen cherries and ice cream in my mouth, grinding my teeth to ignore the brain freeze.

"So what's with Simon?" Clary asked, getting right to the point.

There's only so long you can try to fake a brain freeze to avoid talking before it becomes obvious. She was glaring at me, recognizing my poor acting skills. "Well, we went on the date. It was fine, a little awkward. We had dinner, and then he took me to Central Park. He took me to this tree that had 'SL and IL' carved into it-"

"Oh, I know that tree! I used to think that the initials stood for Stanley Lew and Iliana Lew, these people I knew in high school and I thought that they might have gotten married and then-" I glared at her. "Never mind," she said sheepishly. "So you went to the tree."

"Yeah, he took me there, gave me his 'I-heart-Izzy' speech, and then he proposed," I explained. "That's when everything started feeling weird."

"How?" she asked through a mouth of ice cream.

"I got all… fluttery and excited when he asked me to marry him," I said hesitantly. She shrugged.

"I get like that when I watch The Bachelor."

"I don't know," I murmured in response. The night was stretching out exhaustingly, and my earlier brain freeze seemed to have stuck with me and was fast becoming a fully-fledged migraine.

"So what happened next?"

"He kissed me."

"He WHAT?" she shrieked. Her spoon clattered to the floor.

"Isabelle-me," I clarified quickly.

"I didn't think he would actually _do _anything," Clary gasped.

"I don't think he thought he would either," I mumbled.

"I mean, I thought it would be like when they use stand-ins on TV shows, just random people they use to get the lighting right," continued Clary. "They're not important, you know, basically dummies-"

"You can stop," I said bluntly.

"But-"

"You realize you're talking to the 'unimportant dummy,'" I pointed out. She blushed apologetically.

"Seriously, though," she said, "what are you getting at? So he kissed you, so what?"

"Well," I gulped, "I think I might kind of like him, as in like-like him, as in…"

"Oh my Edward!" she exclaimed.

"Which Team _are_ you?" I demanded.

"Not important!" yelped Clary. She looked like she was suffocating. "How? What? _How?_"

"I don't know!" I cried. Her phone buzzed, and I saw her take it out of her pocket and glance at the screen. I kept talking. "I mean, I used to like him… _a lot_. And I thought those feelings had completely dissipated years ago, but now they're back and _overwhelmingly _stronger. What am I gonna do?"

"Well," said Clary, looking up from her cell phone, "I can tell you what we're going to do right now. There's a Drevak demon attacking mundanes in Queens. Jace and the Lightwoods are going to kill it, and Luke's bringing the wolves in case there are more." She stood up and grabbed her Shadowhunter gear. "Let's go."

We were the last ones there. Jace, Alec, and Isabelle were standing just inside the mouth of an alley, Jace holding a Sensor and the other two holding seraph blades. Isabelle's whip was curled around her wrist. Magnus was leaning against the brick wall beside Alec, and Luke and the pack (all in human form) were standing in the empty street. Clary ran to Jace immediately and accepted a seraph blade from him. Sighing, I walked over to stand beside Luke.

"Magnus, you really shouldn't have come," Alec was fretting.

"Yes, send the Downworlder home," groaned Jace. Fourteen werewolves in human form growled at him, shifting angrily.

"Jace," scolded Luke, and he looked down guiltily.

"The Sensor is picking up definitely recent demonic energies right around here," Jace said authoritatively.

"So let's do this!" yelled Jordan, one of the more enthusiastic wolves in his twenties. Magnus's fingertips sparked blue and Isabelle unfurled her whip.

Suddenly, Jace leapt forward and stabbed his blade into the darkness. Pale, spidery shapes came flooding out. The Shadowhunters tensed and attacked. I saw Magnus jumping over the swarm and throwing down shards of what looked like light that sliced through the demons. I phased quickly and followed Luke into the battle, shouldering a demon out of the way and into Jordan's jaws. I saw Clary fighting three at once and flew toward the one nearest me. Its back was turned at the time, and my fangs ripped through its throat quickly. I tossed it to the side and jumped towards another as the first began to disintegrate. I saw Clary chop through one and run away to a large group of them crowding Alec. It was so frantic, the unexpected spasms of violence were so sporadic. Something slammed into my back at one point and I shoved it off, not checking to see if it was a monster or a fallen comrade.

The fight seemed forever, but I suppose it only lasted a few minutes. The Drevak's number slowly dwindled, and several black piles of ashes decorated the ground. I thought detachedly that a mundane passing by here tomorrow morning would think a fire had occurred.

I heard one of the last demons die with a squelching sound behind me and pounced on one that seemed to have been hiding. I burrowed into its flipped chest, hearing its flesh tear. It quickly dissolved and its remains settled to the dusty cement.

The backstreet was quiet, but something felt wrong. I turned around and scanned the alley. There were no demons, they seemed to have all collapsed to dust. The wolf pack seemed to relax, and I saw a few of them changing to human form. I did, too, and as I straightened I heard a soft moan and became aware of a sharp, coppery scent. A dark shape was lying in the middle of the alley.

It was Jace, slumped over on the ground and surrounded by a puddle of his own blood.


	3. Chapter 3

Everyone was frozen for a moment, and then Luke snapped into action, always the reliable one. He ran forward and lifted Jace's head off the pavement. His eyes were open, and I shuddered violently, thinking that they were blank and dead, staring up at nothing. After the shaking stopped I could see that his eyes were very clearly alive, focused on Luke's face. He coughed wetly and dribbled blood onto his already bloodied Shadowhunter jacket.

"Huh," he said, his voice sounding weaker than I think he meant it, "So that's why our clothes is all black." I would have laughed if he hadn't immediately after lost consciousness.

"Clary." Luke was calm, systematic. "Can you Portal him to my house?" She was standing next to Jace, not moving. Her eyes, wide and terrified, blinked at him, spilling a few of the tears that had been rimming her eyes down her cheeks to join the others.

"Yes," she said. It sounded like a question. She extricated her stele and held it against the brick side of the building. It ignited as she began tracing it in a wide arc. Her hand was shaking uncontrollably, though, and her stele rattled across the wall and singed a small hole in it.

"Let me do it," suggested Magnus, gently moving her aside and creating a glowing doorway with just a twist of his azure-tinged fingers. Luke nodded his approval.

"Alec…" he began.

"Yes?" He was stoic, but I could make out the pain in his eyes. Next to him stood Isabelle, who was sobbing hysterically. Luke was firing out orders.

"You and Clary take Jace to my house. Get him to the couch, okay?" They nodded and began to shift Jace's limp body into their arms. "Magnus, I need you to heal him as well as you can."

"Sure, but it'll cost you." It wouldn't. Every favor he granted us was supposedly his last.

"Okay, you three go first. Clary, you know where I keep the medicine supplies. Get it out when you get there." She nodded mutely. "Magnus, are you able to close the Portal after I get there?"

"No!" Isabelle shrieked suddenly. "No, I'm going with him."

"Fine," exhaled Luke. "Go with Clary and Alec." They lifted Jace's limp form and disappeared through the Portal, quickly followed by Isabelle and Magnus. "Maia." I looked up, shocked. For the past frantic minutes I'd felt separate, isolated, as if I were floating above the scene. Luke's beckon brought me crashing down to earth, to reality, and _Oh my God, I can't believe Jace might be dead. _

"Yeah?" I gasped.

"Can you drive my truck back to my house?" He still seemed in control, but I was beginning to pick out the worry in his eyes and the beginnings of panic edging his voice. I nodded, and he tossed me the keys. "Alright, everybody else back to the police station!" Luke yelled to the rest of the pack. With murmurs of dissent and gloom, the wolves phased and ran away, their pounding paws echoing across the silent street. "I'll see you soon, Maia," Luke said, swinging into the Portal. A moment later, it shrunk away to nothing. Shivering, I ran out of the alley and toward Luke's truck.

When I twisted the keys and the truck roared awake, the Black Eyed Peas' "Rock That Body" came crackling through the static-drenched speakers. It was weird how unfitting the song was, weird thinking that at this moment some people were bopping along to this song instead of fretting that one of their friends was dying. I turned the volume all the way down and drove towards Brooklyn.

I texted Simon, ignoring both my hatred of texting while driving and my petty wish to not see him. He had a blood debt to Jace, and it was only right that he be there during this crucial moment. Some things were more important than whether or not I'd fallen for Simon Lewis.

Since the moment I'd met him, Jace had reminded me of Daniel. He was arrogant, twisted, good-looking, and sarcastic. He'd never hurt me, as my brother had, but there were times when I feared he would. When Daniel had died, I'd been relieved rather than upset. However, I was worried now that Jace might die. It was more than "Clary would be sad," though. I was truly terrified that I could lose him. The notion scared me more than the fact that he was at this moment unconscious and badly wounded. Somehow, over the years, I had grown fond of Jace.

I reached Luke's house before Simon. It seemed strangely quiet. Magnus and Luke were working over Jace, who was stretched out on the couch. I winced, painful memories sparking across my eyesight. This was too similar to make me comfortable. Same demon, same couch. His angelic blood was now pooling over the bloodstains that I'd once created.

Clary and Isabelle were sitting on the loveseat, both weeping silently. Alec was sitting, stone-like, on the piano bench. "Simon's coming," I said. Luke was yanking out the demon's spines while Magnus tried to slow the bleeding. Unlike my encounter with the Drevaks, most of the damage to Jace seemed to have been inflicted by the monster's talons and fangs. I didn't know if that was better or worse.

"Alright," said Luke. "He'll be okay around the blood?"

"He's been a vampire for seven years," I replied.

"Magnus, you fixed his lung, right?" Luke said suddenly.

"First thing I did. He's breathing, isn't he?" I walked around the couch, slumping into the loveseat next to Clary.

"It'll be okay," I whispered.

"I need to get a ring," she said.

"Oh, Clary, he's a Shadowhunter. This kind of stuff happens all the time."

"That is not the kind of thing you say to someone you're trying to comfort," she griped. "How do you know he's going to be okay?"

I sighed. "Because he's Jace."

I was waiting outside on the porch when Simon drove up and sprinted out of the car. I couldn't help but realize, as he came up in his black gear and matching dark hair, how _hot _he was. I bit my lip, drawing blood. He hopped up the steps and put his hand on the doorknob, turning to look at me. He sniffed.

"Are you bleeding?" Mortified, I bunched my bottom lip up under my teeth.

"Sorry." The way my mouth was, the apology sounded exactly like Gilly from SNL. "Just go in." He did.

As soon as we went in, I could tell that something was wrong. Magnus was swearing, and Clary was standing behind Jace, lifting his head. From where I was standing, I could see a growing puddle of poison-tainted blood blanketing Jace. "What happened?" I yelped.

"Nicked artery," Simon said. "The poison's flowing into his bloodstream." I glanced at him sideways.

"How do you-"

"Simon!" called Luke. "Can you get the poison out?"

"I- yes. Yes I can." He ran forward, swinging himself around the couch and kneeling next to Jace. The oily-looking blood was spouting out of a spot just below his neck. With utter concentration, he leaned down and pressed his mouth to the wound. Feeling faintly nauseous, I turned around and stared at the fresh paint. The few times I'd been to Luke's house before Jocelyn moved in, it had been in complete disrepair. She'd brightened the place, painted it and hung paintings along the hall. She was at the Institute, staying late to train Penny Edgebrooke.

"Um. Poison's out," said Simon, standing and spitting the last of it into a small bowl.

"Good," said Magnus, sliding in front of Simon, "now I have to repair his veins." Clary was still standing behind Jace, crying openly but continuing to hold his head up.

"You look like your mom," said Simon, going to stand next to her.

"You look like… a vampire."

"Kind of," he apologized. "So… I guess I don't owe him anymore?"

"You owe me for life," Jace coughed, sitting up.

"Jace!" cried Clary, wrapping her arms around him.

"Whoa, watch it, Clary," he hissed, wincing in pain.

"Could you lie back down?" said Magnus. "I'm trying to seal up your blood vessel."

"Or trying to find an excuse to look at my chest?" Magnus glared at him, and a cloud of blue sparks wrapped around his head and pulled it back down to the armrest. "Unconsciousness is _boring_, did you know that?" said Jace. "It's like staring at a wall."

"It wasn't so boring for us," mumbled Clary.

"Hey," he said, all traces of his joking mannerisms put away, "it's okay. I'm fine. Trust me."

"Sealed," grumbled Magnus, backing up and sitting next to Alec.

"Jace," said Luke, "can you do your own _iratzes_?" He was waving around Jace's stele.

"Totally," he shrugged. "Gimme."

While Jace fixed himself up, I went to Clary and told her that I was heading home. "Okay, I'm staying here," she said. "But, um, what are you going to do about…" She bobbed her head towards Simon.

"I have no idea."

"Well, here's a good way to… gauge how you feel," she suggested. "What do you think of Isabelle?"

"She's okay," I said. "I have nothing against that… ho."

"See?" said Clary, rolling her eyes. "You _really _like him. You know what that means, right?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "I guess I have to tell him."

"Or spread rumors about Isabelle on her wedding day."

"You mean like in that "I Write Sins Not Tragedies" song?"

"Exactly," she laughed.

"Hey, what are you two talking about?" asked Jace.

"Squirrels," yelped Clary. Before he could ask us why we were talking about squirrels, and without asking Clary why that was the first thing to pop into her head, I left, completely lost and having no idea what to tell Simon. I had to talk to him tomorrow, before he proposed. I screamed under my breath, wondering when my life had fallen apart so thoroughly.


End file.
